


Somebody Else

by uhmelle



Category: Kazuchika Okada - Fandom, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: Angst, Ex Sex, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 01:54:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11545002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhmelle/pseuds/uhmelle
Summary: I don’t want your bodyBut I hate to think about you with somebody elseOur love has gone coldYou’re intertwining your soul with somebody else





	Somebody Else

There had been yelling on his part, for a few words at least, in Japanese. All of which you understood, and steeled yourself against the internal flinch that came on instinct with a man raising his voice. Your face portrayed nothing. And when he stalled in his words, you simply asked, “Are you done?” His shoulders fell, expressing something his face never did.

You talked like adults after that, however bitter and conflicted, and eventually decided it was better to go your separate ways. A book closed on three years, the reluctance to admit the fault on both sides.

It sat in the corner of your mind when you missed him. The whirlwind moments that seemed to spark and fizzle out with ease, stark contrast to the slow burn of time apart. Both throwing the equilibrium of your life for a topple, until eventually, despite the love swelled in your chest whenever he came around, all you did was fight and fuck. Sometimes the other way around.

You snapped back, Fumi making polite conversation, talking about his sister’s wedding in March. Your date, a sports writer with a fantastic smile and sense of humor. Somewhat safe, stable enough, his cardigan giving away the fact that he had a white cat and apparently missed the strip from his waist to his under arm when he lint rolled. His eyes crinkled at the edges when he laughed at the story he was telling.

You smiled, a feat in will power if you did say so yourself. You’d chosen to the lounge, despite its laundry list of memories, because of the calm atmosphere and intimate setting, perfect for the get to know you of a second date. The music was low, you sipped your drink, answered at the appropriate times, leaned forward to give him your attention on the couch diagonal to yours.

You probably would have gone home with him if he’d asked.

But what you hadn’t expected, shortly after the delivery of your second round of drinks, but before Fumi’s eyes traveled the length of your legs, was the 6 foot three looming memory introducing himself to your date. The man you had avoided running into, despite close social circles for the better part of 6 months, asking how you were, shaking Fumi’s hand with a cordial smile.

“I won’t stay and ruin your date,” he’d laughed. To which you chuckled politely, but actually meant fuck you. “But it was good to see you, (Y/N).”

“You too, Kazuchika.”

He walked way with the thin signature smile to his table lined it a few faces you recognized, most you didn’t, and to his seat directly in your eye line.

“Wow, Okada,” Fumi looked a little in awe. “I guess I can’t use sports stories to impress you now.”

You tried to figure out who you had pissed off. Any ladders you had walked under, black cats you had crossed unawares. Your eyes forcibly glued to the man asking you about your family, your mouth moving, but out of the corner of your eye, Kazuchika. Now a literal reminder in the corner of the room.

The non-contact had been mandatory on your end. Not some indescribable urge, nothing romantic about the fact that you were unable to separate care and love when it came to the puroresu legend. To see him felt like nothing had happened, presenting a precarious but all too familiar chasm in which to fall, or jump.

And still, there he was. Gorgeous, laughing up a storm, beanie hiding the thicket of blonde hair you loved so much. The charisma that made him what he was evident in even the small parts of his person. The things you’d fallen in love with once again creating a fog over his detachment to even the things he loved most.

A vibration on your thigh meant your phone had come alive, and you fished it out of your pocketbook with a genuine apology. The possibility of work, or your mother, quickly popped up as tabbed files in your brain before,

_at least he’s handsome_

You shook your head. He wasn’t even programmed into your address book anymore.

“Work.” You gave Fumi another exasperated head shake. “Somehow there’s always a disaster that only I can fix,” you laughed, choosing to ignore, to which your companion enthusiastically agreed.

_not very interesting though by the look on your face_

The correct course of action was to ignore him. Turn off your phone, focus on your date with the sweet man in front of you. An adult reaction to avoid letting open the over stuffed closet of your complicated past tumble open. Too bad your fingers didn’t see the trouble.

_He’s really funny actually_

You raised your head to eye him. The sides of kazuchika’s nose flattened out as he sniffed, his eyes coming up from his own glowing screen to meet with yours.

Another vibration.

_And you’re still replying to me_

As if on cue, caught like a naughty child, your want to humor him dissipated. Heat rising in your blood, enough from a simple antagonizing text to make you desperate to get the upperhand. Instead all you could do was apologize again for the interruptions, and receive the same genuine sympathy you did not deserve.

_If you’re so interested in him, then you won’t meet me upstairs in 10 minutes. Our room._

The words swam around, taunting you in their suggestion. Being alone in a room with him hadn’t been high on your list.

Kazuchika was laughing again, lost in his own conversation when you looked up at him. Fumi’s lively hands aided in creating the picture he was painting for you. Something about his favorite childhood play spot now. It faded in and out like background noise.

You and Kazuchika. Like magnets unable to do more but adhere to their go earthly forces. Through whatever obstacles set in the path. You looked at his words again, and back to your date. Something pulling at your sleeve.

Ten minutes, like clockwork, Kazuchika excused himself and took the stairs two by two in long strides. The story you had been telling finished up, a hearty laugh came as a response to it, and you pressed your lips together.

You picked up your phone, the feigning sign of yet another text, though your notifications were empty. You sighed, sending a text to no one. “I’m so sorry about this, they need me to call. Not even ten minutes, I promise.”

The arch of your eyebrows said apologetic as you were already out of your seat, bag under your arm. He was sweet and accommodating, giving you the go ahead and telling you to take as long as you needed. He understood the demands of important jobs.

You took the stairs one at a time. Each click of your heels on the wooden platforms telling the quiet air your secrets. But there would be no heartfelt reunion. You would walk in, inform him he was no longer needed or wanted, and to forget your number, before making your exit.

Something that could have been done well enough and much cleaner over text. You admit only as you push through the door, letting it shut you up the both of you in your regular lounge. He stood up from his seat, your indignation rising as he looked more smug than you’d imagined. The urge for nothing more than to put him in his place and leave him high and dry.

But in the end, magnets always collide into one another, messy and unceremoniously.

You charged into him, lips slotting together with ease. As if they’d never been apart. His body barely wobbling at the impact as he opened his mouth to you. A sigh bubbled from you as he pulled you closer, palm moving to cradle the back of your head.

A moment passed. The feeling of lips and familiar taste like returning to a place you haven’t lived in a lifetime. When you pulled back, he looked almost triumphant. Kazuchika’s pout was turned up into a grin and immediately the righteous rage came back, ready for you to be the bigger person.

Instead, you pulled the hat from his head, his hair falling onto his forehead.

“Where does he think you are?” His voice was low, looking down at you as you quickly turned to the buttons of his shirt.

“Business call.”

Kazuchika yanked the button down over his head from under your eager hands.

“Will he care if you never come back?”

You shoved the jacket off your shoulders, watching as his belt slipped through his fingers to unbuckling it.

“I’m going back.” You said the words with force, trying to convince who exactly, a question for another time.

Looking up at him, you hiked your skirt up, pulling his hands to you, placing them at the band of your underwear. His eyes traveled down, past your chest to where his hands lay and back, before they finally ventured inside, grazing the swell of your ass as he pushed them down.

“We don’t need to…” but his hands kept moving until your underwear fell to the floor.

You made no move to separate yourselves. “Then why call me up here?”

“It made my skin crawl to see you near him.”

His smooth long fingers squeezing your ass for emphasis, the other freeing itself to work around to your front. Your folds parted softly as his fingers made small circles around your clit. You bit your lip, hands moving to shove his own pants down just enough to take hold of his semi hard cock.

You wasted no time, not a minute to be spare. He was waiting. The poor fuck who found you at the worst. Maybe he would just leave. Kazuchika interrupted your thoughts, two fingers filling you and beckoning to graze along your walls.

Your lips met again, long enough to stifle a moan from your throat. The wetness between your legs lubing his long digits to pump into you with ease, squeezing around them as you slowly jerked his cock, down to base of dark hair and up again. Gentle lips and familiar hands, both holding a wealth of knowledge on the other’s body. A comfort from a separate time.

But it couldn’t last forever. The reality of the moment, messy and desperate, came crashing down the second he broke away. Comfort gone, the only truth being the tingling in your core, your ex-for-a-reason standing in front of you.

You latched into him again, vacating your hands to push him back towards the couch. Battle in your brain for weak justification raged on, only letting up on his soft lips to lay on the seat and pull him down with you.

From where he sat on his knees, slotted between your legs akimbo, he shoved his bottoms down to his thighs. Their muscles rippled under tanned skin, and you tried to ignore it as he spit it his hand and stroked his hardened member for a moment. Just long enough to line himself up and slip through his fist and into you.

His hands gripped your thighs to pull you closer, legs coming up around his waist as you urged him down. A need, a want you felt scorn for, but gave into with such fever. The clash of bodies, his large frame positioned just hovering over yours still clothed but heat radiating. He babbled, cooed against your neck only interrupted with wet kisses.

“You always looked best with me,” he huffed, thrusting in to meet where his thumb swirled liberally around your clit.

Your fingers clutched in his hair, the others firm on his ass. “Kazuchika—”

 _Shut up shut up shut up_. You managed to stunt the moans trying to escape you, breathing heavily. The petty back and forth of bitter tongues, the meaningless use of flesh, all manageable without the sincere tone somehow coming from him as he invaded the most intimate parts of you. It wasn’t fair.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you.”

Your teeth clicked when you pulled him to you again. It was rougher than you had meant, shutting him up at least. Nostalgia blurring the rhyme and reason of why you were apart in the first place. The sex had never been the problem, and in the end it was the only thing that kept anything from toppling over. It wasn’t forever.

The tension building in your belly rattled through you. A wave of muscle contractions as you broke away to bury your face in his neck through your quiet orgasm. Your teeth found the his collarbone, nips indenting and wetting the skin. Even as the height of your sensitivity peaked, his hitched breath swam through your veins.

An image of Fumi, idly finishing his drink, slumped against the back of the couch, going smaller in the downstairs lounge until he disappeared. If he hadn’t left already, maybe there was another door you could take.

You walls clenched around Kazuchika’s cock, the familiar depths it reached after your orgasm clouding your brain once more. The flush spread from his cheeks and lit up a trail to his chest. Tell tale signs of his orgasm approaching as he pounded into you.

In the heat, Kazuchika captured your mouth. Tongues meeting when he pulled out, jerked himself quickly, spilling on your thighs, undoubtedly down onto the couch. The few exhausted breaths that escaped into your sloppy kiss creating the only soundtrack to the finish of your tryst.

You hadn’t broken the kiss, still lost in the way he tasted, soft and placid in the post coital vulnerability. You had hoped it was over. Foolish perhaps as your feet had carried you up the stairs and into his arms of your own free will, but hoped still, that once the dust had cleared and your flimsy attraction proven for what they were, that you would feel nothing.

He pulled away finally, staying close, needily taking your bottom lip between his own one last time. “Come home with me.”

You lips trembled against his, like the heroine of a goddamn romance novel. Her muscled stallion of a man professing his burning want. But in reality Kazuchika’s unreadable brown eyes searching your own, his hand cupping your cheek tenderly, even as his cum had gone cold on your legs like a bad accident. The last thing you felt was nothing.


End file.
